


Kisses Like Balm

by Siancore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Dotes on Sam, Bucky Takes Care of Sam, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson is a Cutie Pie, Sam is Sick, Sambucky Domesticity, sambucky fluff, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25262854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siancore/pseuds/Siancore
Summary: Sam has a cold and Bucky takes care of him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 106





	Kisses Like Balm

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I'm sick and it's well past midnight. Fluff and silliness. Enjoy!

The room was stuffy and there were used tissues everywhere. The blinds were closed, and the steady humming of the small space heater filled the area. Bucky came through the door carrying the items he had left the apartment for: Ingredients for chicken soup and cold and flu medicine.

Sam was lying where Bucky had left him, on the sofa wrapped in a bundle of warm blankets.

“Barnes? That you?” he called out, his voice was hoarse and weak.

“Yeah, Wilson. Let me get the soup started and I’ll be right there.”

Sam mumbled something unintelligible and closed his eyes once more. He felt marginally better knowing Bucky was in the apartment with him. He felt safe. He felt – he felt something he was far too sick to focus on in that moment.

Drifting off a little, he was somewhat startled when Barnes took up a seat beside him. Sam’s eyes opened as he turned his head to look at his roommate.

“Shouldn’t take too long,” said Bucky as he searched Sam’s face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Sick,” said Sam with a pouty face that Bucky found to be way too adorable.

“Aww, I know,” said Bucky as he tucked the top layer of blankets in around Sam. “Poor baby.”

Sam’s face went warm, and not from his fever. He found that happening more frequently when Bucky was being sweet with him, and Bucky was definitely being sweeter with him the longer they spent together. It was a pleasant surprise, Sam noted, the way that Barnes was gentle and protective. He hadn’t expected things to be like that between them after they decided to go halves on renting a place. Sure, they still had their teasing, playful relationship, but there was a definite shift: They really cared about one another.

“I’m not a baby,” said Sam weakly, sounding every bit like a baby as he pouted once more.

“You look like one when you pull that face,” Bucky teased, causing Sam to exaggerate a frown.

“Whatever, my face is great,” Sam retorted.

“Yeah, yeah, pretty boy.”

Sam’s tummy did a somersault before he let out a loud, painful cough. Bucky placed his hand to Sam’s padded shoulder and patted it gently as he handed over the box of tissues that was sitting atop the coffee table.

“Damn it, Sammy, that sounds bad,” said Bucky as he got up to get Sam some water.

Sam finished coughing and then replied, “It sounds worse than it is.”

Bucky stared down at the sick man and said, “You need to get back in bed.”

“I’m fine –”

“No,” said Bucky sternly as he placed the water on the table. “Bed, now. Take another pill, and I’ll bring your soup in.”

“Barnes.”

“No arguments, Wilson. Come on, up you get, before I scoop you up and carry you to bed.”

“Ooh, I love it when you take charge and get all manly-man on me,” Sam teased, causing Bucky to blush, but not deterring him from the task at hand.

“Don’t sick-flirt with me, pal,” said Bucky, even though it did something to him when Sam’s voice did that thing where it got coquettish; something he wasn’t ready to admit.

“Aww, I can’t move. Can you carry me, Buck?” asked Sam with his big brown eyes batting prettily in Bucky’s direction.

Bucky let his eyes roam over Sam’s face, and then to his form, with was swathed in layers upon layers of blankets. He could do it, he mused; his super strength would allow him to do it quite easily. He could unwrap Sam like a delicate gift, take him in his arms, and bring him to bed. He would be lying if he said the thought had not crossed his mind on occasion, late at night, in the privacy of his room. How he could lift Sam up and take him to bed. Of course, it would have to be when Sam was in better health, and when both of them had finally given in to their obvious attraction.

“Barnes? Hey, Barnes?”

“Uh?”

“I was joking, man,” said Sam as he began to unbundle himself. “I can walk.”

“Yeah, course. Here, let me get those pillows for you.”

Sam offered him a smile as Bucky gathered the pillows and followed behind him. Bucky laid them down on Sam’s bed, fluffing them a little, as he drew back the sheet for him. Sam climbed into the bed and set about spreading the blankets over himself once more.

“I got it,” Bucky proffered as he helped Sam get settled, tucking him in as he went.

“Thanks, man.”

“No worries,” Bucky replied as he and Sam held one another’s gaze a beat longer than was needed. “Let me – let me get that soup for you.”

…

Sam was asleep when Bucky returned to check on him. There was a small pang inside of Bucky’s chest when he looked at his friend. He was really sick, and Bucky hated seeing him like that. He wished he could snap his fingers and make Sam feel better again. He only ever wanted Sam to be safe, well, and happy. He pushed aside the tugging in his chest and gathered up the empty bowl from the side table. Then, he leaned over and placed a quick kiss to Sam’s forehead, pulling back when Sam stirred and mumbled something in his sleep.

∞∞∞

The days passed and Bucky continued to dote on Sam. He cooked for him; washed his clothes and bedding for him; brought him medicine and snacks; rubbed decongestant balm on his chest; and ran baths for him. Sam reminded him that he didn’t need to make a fuss; Bucky reminded Sam that he wanted to.

After each day, Bucky would help Sam to his bedroom, make sure he was tucked in, and then check on him through the night. Each night, when Sam had relinquished wakefulness to slumber, Bucky would press a soft little kiss to Sam’s brow and then leave.

It went on for the better part of a week as he healed, and Sam thought it was just some fever dream. He could vaguely recall the feeling of the other man’s lips pressed against his skin. It was fleeting, but he remembered it. He remembered it and it did something to his heart.

The day came when Sam was well enough that he did not need Bucky to fuss over him. When his nose was no longer runny, his coughing had subsided, and he could breathe with ease. He stepped out of the shower, feeling better than he had in ages. He found Bucky in the living room reading on the sofa.

“Hey,” said Bucky, as he noticed Sam approaching. “You look better today. Got most of your color back.”

“I feel better,” said Sam as he sat next to Bucky; he was close enough that their legs brushed against one another. “Thanks for takin’ care of me.”

Bucky smiled sweetly at Sam and said, “Don’t even mention it. Was my pleasure.”

Sam returned the smile and they stared at one another a moment before Sam plucked up the courage to ask what he wanted to for some time.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask, I mean, there was something I wanted to know,” Sam stammered. “It might’ve been some kind of sickness-induced dream, but I kinda sorta remember you doin’ something while I was sick.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I remember you like, I dunno, kissin’ my forehead or whatever.”

Bucky ran his hand over his face and gave Sam what could only be described as an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you noticed.”

“Yeah, I just –”

“I was, uh, y’know, checkin’ your temperature.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and said, “Really?”

“Yeah, lips to forehead,” Bucky explained in earnest, even though his face had turned red. “That’s how my Ma used to check our temperature when I was a kid. I just did what she used to do. I needed to make sure you weren’t burnin’ up. _Shit_. That was weird, right? Kissin’ your head while you were sleeping? It’s weird. I’m so sorry, Sam. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Sam waved his hand to let Bucky know there was no need for an apology. It was endearing what he had done. It really was, though Sam could not help the feeling of disappointment that swirled inside of him at the news that the kisses were not out of affection, but a remnant of something Bucky’s mother used to do for her sick children.

“No, its fine, Buck,” said Sam with an encouraging smile. “It’s a little different to how we do things now, and there’s a digital thermometer right there in the first aid kit, but it’s sweet of you. You’re a really sweet guy. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me while I’ve been sick. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t gotta thank me, Sam,” said Bucky coyly. “I loved takin’ care o’ you.”

Sam gifted him with a bright smile then and Bucky thought his heart was never going to slow down.

“Even when I was bein’ a big baby?” asked Sam with a hint of playfulness.

“Especially when you were,” Bucky replied with a little chuckle. “You’re so cute, Wilson. So cute I just wanted to –”

He stopped himself before he said what was really, truly thinking. Sam sat up a little straighter and his eyes went wide.

“What?” asked Sam, praying Bucky couldn’t hear how stridently his heart was thumping away in his chest. “You wanted to _what_?”

“Kiss you,” Bucky said, scarcely louder than a whisper, as his eyes fell to Sam’s lips.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you wanted to kiss me to check my temperature?” asked Sam, his gaze fixed on Bucky’s lips.

“No,” Bucky admitted as his gaze found Sam’s. “I wanted to kiss you because you’re so goddamn adorable, okay? You’re a sweetheart, Sammy. And I’m sweet on you. That’s why I wanted to kiss you.”

“Wow,” said Sam breathlessly.

“I still wanna kiss you,” Bucky murmured as his hand found Sam’s and he entwined their fingers.

Sam did not pull his hand away. He did not lean back out of Bucky’s reach. He did not do or say anything. He just stared, almost disbelievingly. Bucky felt a slight hint of panic creep up inside. Said panic was soon abated when Sam gave Bucky a crooked grin and said, “Well, hurry up and kiss me then.”

Bucky wasted no more time as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Sam’s. It was as nice as both had imagined it would be. Sam deepened it, and Bucky let him set the pace. After a moment of exploring one another and relishing in it, they broke apart and stared into the other’s eyes.

“Jesus, Sammy. That was –”

“Amazing,” said a breathless Sam.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed before pecking at Sam’s lips once more and pressing their brows together. “Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“You feel warm.”

“What?”

Bucky pulled away slightly, and then pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead before repeating, “You feel warm. Your skin feels warm. You sure your fever hasn’t come back?”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

Bucky placed his lips to Sam’s brow again and said, “Are you sure? You’re really warm, sweetheart.”

“Lord, you’re so brand new, Barnes,” said Sam with a roll of his eyes.

“What?” asked Bucky as he squeezed Sam’s hands.

Sam shook his head, leaned in close to Bucky’s ear and whispered, “My skin isn’t warm ‘cause I’m still sick; I’m warm ‘cause you kissed me, dumbass.”

“Oh,” said Bucky somewhat sheepishly, before bringing his hand to cup Sam’s cheek. “So, it ain’t just your pretty face that’s warm, you’re tellin’ me you’re hot all over?”

“Yes,” said Sam with a devilish grin as he licked his lips.

“Well, in that case,” said Bucky, as he lifted Sam onto his lap and then stood up easily with the other man wrapped around him. “Better get you to bed then.”


End file.
